Self-Examination
by KissMeHardyA113
Summary: My attempt at figuring Sandi out.


Sandi entered her room in her bathrobe. She'd just had a shower, which had almost made her forget about the latest power struggle with Quinn. Almost.

She collapsed on her bed, making it creak slightly-had she gained weight?- and scaring Fluffy away from her favorite spot under the foot of the bed. She rolled on her side to face the cat.

"Get out, you little fur-ball!" Sandi hissed and showed Fluffy the door.

The cat meowed in confusion. Seeing that her pet had no intention of leaving on her own, Sandi got up and grabbed her. Fluffy remained quiet while she was carried out of the room, used to her owner's touch, but she let out a high-pitched snarl when Sandi tossed her on the hallway and promptly shut the pet out of her room.

Alone at last, Sandi sat cross-legged on the floor-still in her bathrobe- and started thinking. She thought about the latest issue of _Waif_ magazine (electric blue was _in _that summer- or was it aqua? She'd have to check again...). Her fashion skills had fallen into decline since the start of the new school year, but she managed to maintain her vulnerable status in the Fashion Club, alienating the other members in the process. Her thoughts soon led to Quinn and the friend she could have in her, but never would. Then she thought of her brothers, the whole concept of fashion, the braces she used to wear... She kept thinking and thinking, until all was nothing and she could hardly remember who she was.

At some point, she realized that she was sitting on the floor with no underwear on, and she absent-mindedly got up. Once she had gotten on her feet, she was drawn toward the two full-length mirrors at a corner of her room. She walked toward them and faced her reflection.

It took some moments to realize that the brunette in the periwinkle bathrobe was herself. She touched her hair, just to make sure that they were her own: beautiful waves of warm brown, the perfect frame for her perfect face. She went on to observe the meticulously plucked eyebrows above austere brown eyes, the small nose, the pouty lips treated regularly with lip balm to stay soft, the smooth skin moisturized to perfection.

Even though it wasn't apparent to her, she knew that a girl like her should be considered beautiful. So why couldn't she get any dates anymore? No, it wasn't because Quinn got all the guys. That excuse had grown old.

She thought about Quinn's sister-as if she could be tricked into believing that the weirdo was Quinn's cousin!- and her boyfriend. What could a handsome-not to mention filthy rich- guy like him see in a girl like Daria?

_It's the inside that counts._ Sandi had heard that old cliché about a million times, but could it be that it held a certain amount of truth?

The inside. "Well, let's see what's inside," she whispered to herself and unfastened the belt of her robe. Soon, the wet bathrobe was tossed next to her bare feet.

She looked at her reflection again. Graceful shoulders, breasts that most girls her age would kill for, hips that could tempt a saint, freshly-shaved long legs. Any other day she would marvel at the reflection of her naked body.

But not that particular day. That day she saw an ugly girl with a disproportionate body and the face of a stranger stare back at her.

Diets, work-outs, waxing sessions, slathering of creams and ointments on her skin: none of these practices had not gotten her the popularity she had always craved. Years of manipulation and betrayal of friends and enemies had not ensured her position as president of the Fashion Club.

She started clawing at her chest in grief, seeking a way out of her body, out of the cage she had created for herself. She grabbed her hair and started to pull, hoping that if she pulled hard enough she could tear it out along with the ugly mask that was her face.

After yanking on her tresses proved futile, she fell on the floor and started weeping. At first she kept her face hidden in her hands, but at some point she peeked through the fingers and looked at the mirror. Encouraged by what she saw, she dropped her hands to her sides and started staring at her crying self.

She watched her chest heaving with silent sobs. WIth each tear she was getting closer to a breakthrough.

"Sandi! Dinner is ready!" she heard her mother's voice calling from the living room.

Well, that breakthrough would have to wait.

Sandi closed her eyes and concentrated on the latest issue of Waif. In mere moments, her pained expression had turned to her usual disinterested frown.

She realised she needed something to wear. She walked to her closet and browsed through the garments, wondering whether her mother would use the orange tablecloth or the green one. She decided to plan her outfit so that it wouldn't clash with either color.


End file.
